


Season Eight Opener

by helena_s_renn



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst and Humor, Butt Plugs, M/M, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:12:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filming the new season, Jensen's been strung out on certain things for too long, and he's feeling his age. Someone else is, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Season Eight Opener

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: PWP. Unsafe sex. Minor angst, kink, and character bleed.
> 
> Beta by Christian.Howe

Right now, Jensen should be amused. Or horny. What he is, is distracted. About everything. Sitting in the director’s chair with his name stenciled across the back, Jensen rubs a hand over his face more than strictly necessary, his lips pursed till he knows those deep not-dimples appear in the brackets surrounding his mouth. He looks at the dailies and has a minor heart attack over how much his lips have thinned in the last few months. 

He’s getting older. It’s ridiculous. What, like he doesn’t feel pretty anymore? His looks were something he bitched about, laughed over when everyone gave him shit and referred to him as “a male model type”, but ultimately used. After all, he lived in his own body, right? He couldn’t even see his own face 95 percent of the time. Still, he’d taken that for granted, and it’s fading. Jared, four years younger, is coming into his own now, where Jensen was a few seasons ago, he supposes, at the height of his drawing power. 

Last season, they’d made it a point to get Dean laid. By a girl. Well, girl monster. To show he still had it, Jensen imagined. He made damned sure that he cut weight and did about a hundred thousand sit-ups and crunches so that they didn’t have to paint fake abs on him, at least. That was something. 

By comparison, Jared doesn’t have lines around his eyes yet. Sam is fiercer and darker than ever, powerful. And with scruffy stubble, Jared, Jared is like a god. His hair is forever flying around everywhere. Why, Jensen wonders, did Jared insist on growing it out, and why did the producers let him? The hair-and-make-up staff hover around him between takes, making it hard to fuck around, joke around like they used to; they have to talk trash from a four-foot remove. 

Jensen supposes he knows why, today anyway. He can see it in Jared’s eyes, gone halfway between hazel and gray, the foxy slant evident, a preternatural orange-ish glow that the camera picks up once or twice a season smoldering. People probably think it’s a special effect.

No, Jared should have been sitting there, next to him. Ass in a sling, as it were. 

It seemed that Jared didn’t want to sit today. Jensen can tell by Jared’s posture, too: he’s wearing it. 

 

Last night, they went live. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Shit. No warning. End of the first week back filming Season 8, Jared came to hang out in Jensen’s trailer, and all of a sudden they were involved in a round of Strip Truth-or-Dare, passing a bottle of tequila back and forth like they hadn’t done in years. It had never ended before with Jared losing, naked and sporting wood and humping the leg of Dean’s jeans till Jensen feared a mess a second ahead of it actually happening. But this time... Warmth, wet on his thigh, a long body shaking in his arms. He went from shock to so hard he nearly snapped his dick before he could get his zipper open. Jared slid himself down Jensen’s body, down to the floor; he knelt. Nuzzling into the warmth of Jensen’s groin, Jared fished him out by head motions, teeth, tongue. Hot breath and searing suction, the kiss of lips on the tip of him, then around the base of him. 

Jensen knows he was too greedy but damn, Jared had never shied at the idea of too much. Probably everyone within a hundred feet heard him yell, too, but it couldn’t be helped. 

The visuals killed him. His own hand fisted in the long, dark strands where he grabbed Jared’s hair; the pink lips swollen and shiny with spit as he came up for air; and especially the snarl, the one Jared uses when Sam’s supposed to be seriously pissed off but it was all Jared intent on sucking Jensen’s life force out of his body. Some messed up shit, but he was so intent, licking around the head, into the slit, down to mouth at his sac and back up again, deep mouth open, then sealed, sucking, swallowing. 

There was no way Jensen could stop himself, or to make himself shut up. “Yes, oh god... yes... Jesus, Jay...” went on stuck record mode, louder, till he lost the ability to make words and just moaned. Hips jerking, he slammed Jared’s head down, grinding into his throat. Whatever gag reflex he might have possessed, Jared used to pry his own throat open farther, wedge him in tighter. His hands were clenched finger-spread around Jensen’s thighs, moving up and up, gripping in unrelenting points of contact. Mid-yelp, Jensen’s orgasm ripped from his body, his seed from his balls, and Jared took all he could, lips messy with the rest. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” he gritted out when he could speak. Jared was still kneeling. His mouth and throat shifted as he swallowed the load and worked the taste out of his teeth. What was more, his hands did not leave their place on Jensen’s hips. There would be marks, come morning. A thumbprint under each hipbone and the smaller arches of four, high on each of his ass cheeks. He’d feel them for a day, and probably forever in his mind.

This was not the boy he’d fallen into being easy friends with, staring at him like they’re both on the brink of death. They’d both grown up, grown entirely too worldly-wise. Looking down, Jensen blinked, nearly staggered. The foreshortening made him dizzy. The soles of Jared’s feet, size 22 or whatever the fuck, stared up at him from far below. Swell of tight ass beneath the shoulders, which were cut between thick muscles. “I. Sorry.” Jared ducked his head, and that was the last thing Jensen wanted.

“Oh, so you’re sorry now,” Jensen grit out, too harsh. 

Jared’s nakedness was more-so than in the blinding flash of the moment just passed. Not vulnerable, exactly. He was too cocksure, even at that point, for insecurity. Jensen did know that Jared had a sort of emotional neediness, but he’d never show it. Need, yeah sure. Want. Heat. Desire. He might be solid and huge, but he was also a little mirage-like just then, heat waves rolling off him along with his scent: sex and sweat and male. From the tensing of his jaw, he wasn’t exactly sure what would happen next. Neither was Jensen. 

Before either of them could bolt, Jensen assessed how much it was going to fuck up their gig. He’d been through it before. Hell, once even with Jared himself during the writers’ strike of Season 3, when, before they’d all been sent home indefinitely, they’d done a variation of this same damn thing. Fucked themselves out in three days and vowed never again, on the basis of having to work together (hopefully). It seemed like the Fates had honored them, and they’d gone on to how many more seasons. 

Jensen could compartmentalize with the best of them, but every so often he had to lock himself away for half a day and mourn the loss. 

“Dude, I just wanted to. Just wanted. You. Sorry.” Jared still didn’t let go. Leaned forward to lick the top of Jensen’s thigh. That move. He’d seen it before, when Sam sucked blood out of Ruby’s forearm. He wasn’t dead of the sight of himself yanking on Jared’s hair while he blew him, but that tongue might kill him next. 

It felt weird, too, but that could have been his issues rearing up. But this? This, he’d never seen. Jared’s pupils were still blown, and he was so utterly still. “What are you on?” Jensen asked, neutral voice by the skin of his teeth. He had seen Jared in pretty much all stages of drunk. He’d seen him stoned, and on X a couple of times. Hell, that was pretty much mutual on his part. If there was some chemical reason for this, he would walk away again.

“Nothing, other than what we had earlier. You think that I’d have to be shitfaced to...” All that hair was moving around, waves flowing one way, then the other, and back. “You are so blind.” He sighed. Looked up, straight into Jensen’s eyes. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Jensen. Still. After all this time.”

Well, shit. Jensen was beginning to feel ridiculous, standing there all wobbly-kneed like that. And fuck, for Jared to be kneeling for him. Something was just not right about that. He was too used to being loomed over, overshadowed, as it were, his own light shining in a different way. “Fuck you, man. That’s no excuse.” He took a deep breath. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that shit? Besides, it’s not so... not so much any more. I don’t—You shouldn’t have, not without asking.” 

Dumb, he was not. They were used to leading each other by verbal and non-verbal cues, and Jared wouldn’t miss what had just slipped. Not at all. Bruising fingers tightened around his ass cheeks. He nearly winced. Jared’s voice came at him again. “Jensen. Fuck that. You know, they just don’t put as much eyeliner and base on you as they used to. It throws Dean’s look all off, in my opinion. Jesus Christ, are you worried you’re losing your looks? Have you seen my hairline lately?” Jared rolled his eyes extravagantly and popped off, “So can I blow you?” 

Jensen had to laugh. “You just did, bitch. Did you forget?”

“Can still taste you. Wanna do it again.” Jared’s pink tongue flicked out in its own anticipation. “OK, shut up, yeah, you’re my best friend. You know I love you. In case you’ve any doubt. And now... new year and all, I’ve had it with denial, man. I’m going to die of it. If I can’t touch you. If I can’t have you.” Well, he’d never said that before. Nor ran his fingertips all Jensen’s shirt, up his spine from the top of his ass to his neck and back.

“Fuck.” 

“Or there’s that...” 

There was something to be said about distraction, momentary or otherwise. The implication hit Jensen like a brick wall. All he could think was ‘fuck it’ in a rush of heat that filled his chest and radiated lower. “Yes,” he hissed. Before he caught his next breath, Jared was up on his feet, pushing them both into the cramped state room, onto the bed that was going to be too small for sure but it would have to do. He’d deal with the fallout later. 

Two seconds after they’d hit the mattress, Jensen struggled to get his shirts over his head, Jared’s hands all over his chest and belly, feeling him up, trailing down to shove his sticky jeans off. He nudged his knee between Jared’s thighs. Between them, they aligned, balls to ribs. His dick twitched like mad, trying to fill, while Jared’s was heavy with blood already again. He remembered exactly the heft and strength of it in his hand, a phantom pain, just like his brain was branded with what Jared kissed like and the deprived, raw sounds he made, and how it would feel when he took Jensen down and reamed him till they both were screaming. 

It all came out of his mental safe-deposit box, the memories along with the present slapping at him till Jensen had to will himself not to tear up or shoot immediately. It felt melancholic like his downtime, only now Jared was here with him, pushing his hips into Jensen’s, his mouth opening, their tongues slick and hot together, fevered. Every groan and gasp he took from Jared ran over him and through him, wrapping around him till he couldn’t breathe. They jacked each other slowly, till between they were wet with pre-cum and spit, two hard cocks squeezed in two hands. 

Okay, maybe he hadn’t remembered everything. A few times, some special spot would make Jared stiffen or jerk, till he nearly lost it. Jensen couldn’t get enough of all that tanned skin either. The veins roping around his arms, the salty, pulsing hollow of his throat. Something pinched hard at his nipple, and he bucked hard into their hands. “God, you have pretty nipples, Jensen.” 

“Enough with the pretty.” He slapped Jared on the side of the head, not hard enough to hurt. He bit again, then sucked the surrounding skin.

“You’re going to hickey my nipple?” Jensen was somewhere between incredulous and bewildered. 

Hissing, Jared made a sinuous move of his torso, bending around down to take the other stiff bud in his teeth. He threw his thigh over Jensen’s to try to hold him still when he flailed, not that it worked.

“That’s right, spread your legs for me, bitch,” Jensen cracked. 

Jared snorted. “That’s what she said.” 

Someone in a nearby trailer turned on a light. The blue-white fluorescent steamed through the unintentional cracks in the blinds. Jensen looked at them with a director’s eye in that moment. If this were a porno, it was bound to be nominated for best lighting. God, but it was Jared, and it was porn, it was real. Letting go of the momentary diversion, Jensen let himself fall back into the trance of their bodies grinding, fire and lust in their eyes and hands. 

“How do you want it?” Jared breathed when their sleek foreplay dance became more frantic. From the moment they had not bolted after the impromptu blow job, he’d been considering this.

“I’m topping.” They’d pretty much never done that. Before, during their long-ago egress, Jensen had bottomed all but once in the name of experience on his part for one thing, and because it was easier on their sides for the other when it was Jared’s turn. And then there was the height thing – they’d have to deal with it.

There was that flash of amber-orange, and Jared’s eyes rolled back briefly. His hands cupped Jensen’s face, thumbs stroking the stubble in the hollows of his cheeks, then over his upper lip, then his lips themselves. “Fuck. I think I just came.” 

Gleefully, Jensen laughed again. “Cheeseball. No. Want you to come with me in you... and I wanna come... in you.” He rolled himself on top, and kneed Jared’s legs further apart. Goddamn. So good, to be on him like that. All that, for him, his. “Where’s... you know?”

“It’s your trailer.” 

Oh, right. What did he have, anything? How what he supposed to think with those thighs opening for him, their hard and leaking dicks mashed together between them. “I have lotion.” In the cubby next to the bed, for all his masturbatory needs. 

“And?” The hands sliding down his back, over the extremely sensitive area in the arch, right at his waist, had Jensen moaning like he was in heat, spreading his own thighs and pushing Jared’s apart even more. 

There was that thing. That final thing. It was finality, and maybe a bad idea. If so, he’d pay. Taking his time, Jensen leaned in for a long kiss, sliding his hands under Jared’s skull and cradling it, holding his head up for him. He couldn’t stop the roll of his hips, all the more turned on to feel the tight motions being returned from below. He waited till their eyes locked for a while, both so open it was like they were the same person. This, the potential of it, that was what he’d been after before, what he’d missed out having. And what else could he have? 

Trailing his tongue tip from the corner of Jared’s mouth to his ear, he whispered, “Will you let me. Take you... bare?”

Everything in Jared pulsed. His pupils, impossibly; his cock; everything that could tighten and bunch did, and he shoved one hand between them, grabbing for the base of his balls. “Fuck!”

“Yes?” 

“Jeez, Jensen... are you safe?”

“Just you and...” But those names remained outside. This was for the two of them only. “You?”

“Despite what they say about me online, my slutty days are over. And I always did play safe.” 

That was just a formality, and they both knew it. Jensen nodded. “Well, I suppose I should...” He grabbed the lotion. So he hadn’t done this in years either, but it didn’t matter. His nails were just a little too long, and he’d have to be careful with them. Jared’s breathing hitched when Jensen first touched his hole; his hips jumped, jostling them.

“Hold still!” Damn, how was he supposed to...? One finger was not even easy. “Don’t want to hurt you...” 

There were Jared’s hands on him again, this time around the backs of his thighs just below his ass, the spot that was sure to make him moan like a dying cow. He looked down, because he had to see what he was doing, but he shouldn’t have, should have gone by touch alone. Every muscle in Jared’s torso was tensed, reaching for him, waiting for him. If he hadn’t come once earlier, Jensen would have been done. As it was, little dribbles slid down his upturned cock, burning in the air.

He put up with it for a couple moments, taking Jensen’s first two fingers with no major problems. Every time he flexed, Jensen stopped, waiting out the clench. His forearm tensed like iron, just waiting to be able to curl his fingers around and forward and...

“Quit being so careful!” Jared growled. “Just fuck me open!” 

Hearing that... oh, god. Jensen wanted to fuck and bite and drown them both. There were no words. He let his body talk for once, yanking his hand back, coating himself hastily, aiming for the slightly gaping rim, and surging forward. “Come on, yeah, give yourself to me, Jared.” 

That was it. He was in. And. Jensen’s lower body took over. His mind screamed at him ‘thrust thrust thrust fuck yeah thrust’ and he did, lowering himself flat onto Jared’s chest and belly. They had to hitch themselves around again, so they could reach to kiss each other with open mouths and tongues lashing, to keep Jensen from killing Jared’s balls as he went frantic. Guano, what The CW made them say instead of batshit, that was how he felt, how fiercely he needed to fuck, needed Jared to be right there with him, and he supposed it showed. He could feel himself snarl; Jared was doing it again, too. Teeth raked his shoulder and the side of his neck.

“C’mon, man... c’mon, Jen... make me feel it...!” Oh, hells yeah, he could. This was power of the best kind, fucking his best friend into the thin mattress only... Sure he was going as squint-eyed as Jared with the sweat running off his forehead, Jensen changed angle just fractionally, not slowing, then a little more, and... Jared convulsed below him once, twice, howling release, squeezing his eyes tight, spurting between them. Jensen felt warm spunk hit his lips, all over his neck and lower. He grabbed on hard, and rode it out, his toes curled into the blanket for purchase. There it was, Jared’s cum, given for him. It threw a switch for him; he pushed as hard as he could, till seconds later, white light exploded behind his eyes and in his balls and he poured himself out. All he could think was that he was filling Jared full of everything he was, not just sex, not ‘just’ love, everything. 

But yeah, they were male, weren’t they? Hadn’t they just proved it with the mess they’d made, and the stink of their sweat and asses and spent come. Now they had to pull apart. Even that was a loss. Jared didn’t leave, though. He was grinning, in a sleepy post-coital sprawl. 

“Feel better?” 

Jensen nearly died of the sleepy-Sam nostalgia he’d had before... before. And right now. “Yeah.” It came out in a weak chuckle. “No.” 

“You think too much, man.” One leg stretched out, hanging off the bed. Jared reached down to scratch himself, and gingerly touched further back. He turned his fox-eyes to the side. “Huh. I’ll be feeling that for a while.” 

“You’re going to leak,” Jensen spoke the obvious, flipping to his belly and propping himself up on his elbows. 

“Yeah, that’s going to be gross. What do you think I should do about it? Tampon?”

Nearly choking, Jensen burst into hysterical giggles. Then Jared did. By they time they calmed down, it was almost right again, like they hadn’t even had sex, or that they had been all along. Whichever. 

“Now, seriously,” Jensen tried to be serious, but he couldn’t really, not right now. Because what he was about to admit to. “I have a couple of plugs if you want, like to--”

“To keep you inside, you mean.” Jared’s lips quirked up, and Jensen put a hand on his breastbone, leaning down to kiss him lightly. “That is so gross, and so kinky. But sexy. So, yes.”

If it hadn’t been far too late and the booze hitting him like a sledgehammer on the back of the head, Jensen would have done more with Jared on all fours with his wide-spread knees and his still-open hole than work in the smaller plug from his drawer. He was almost jealous of the thing. But there’d be time, now that they had this. Them. 

 

It was near dawn when Jared left. Lack of sleep made Jensen hyper or cranky or both; mix that with tequila and his brain started the downward spiral all over again from the time he set foot on set. Damn ‘professionalism’. He supposed he was almost pouting, because Jared was still keeping the distance of at least the length of his reach, and then there were all those make-up people...

But then, he looked at the stance, the careful movements, the times Jared’s expression blanked and turned inward. No, he really didn’t want to sit down, did he? The only thing better would be what might happen tonight, or tomorrow, or... Jensen caught his own half-grin a reflection off a monitor. Not quite ‘just been fucked’. But better than in months. 

 

Fin.


End file.
